


Young Warriors

by foxysquid



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altea (Voltron), Coming of Age, Dramatic Irony, Family, Friendship, Galra Empire, Gen, Gen Work, Original paladins - Freeform, Paladin Zarkon, Pre-Canon, Rituals, Royalty, Science Fiction, Young Sendak, Young Zarkon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:45:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17250245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxysquid/pseuds/foxysquid
Summary: A Galra "parent of honor" takes on the task of providing a child with armor and weapons, throughout their childhood. When the armor and weapons are at last assembled, and the child is old enough to begin training, a solemn ritual takes place.This may not be a tradition among Alteans, but Zarkon believed it was necessary that he fulfill that role for Alfor's daughter.





	Young Warriors

There was an established order for the traditional gifts given to a child by the designated honor parents. First, was the ceremonial blade, symbolizing protection and good fortune. That was presented to the parents before the birth of the child, and represented the parents' care and strength in watching over their offspring. After a child was born, the proper gift was the helmet, for wisdom and safety. After that, the order went: gauntlets, vambrace, pauldron, gorget, breastplate—and so on, until the child possessed an entire suit of armor. The entire sequence of gifts took years, leading to the day the child was old enough to begin training.

This armor, although of excellent make, was ultimately ceremonial, as the child's adult size could not be reliably predicted, but the components were made with an estimate of the individual's eventual stature in mind. Many did have the pieces adjusted so the armor could be worn once they reached adulthood. There were numerous rituals and feast days on Daibazaal that called for the donning of armor, and it was popular to wear the honor armor from childhood gifting at such times. Often, once a child was fully mature, the honor parents would have a new, whole suit of Galra armor made for their honor child, suitable for combat.

After all the armor had been gifted, there was another, final gift to give.

"Do you have the blade?" Zarkon asked.

"Yes, Emperor Zarkon." The young Galra soldier respectfully trailing a step or two behind him replied immediately and nodded decisively. "Everything has been prepared."

Zarkon had chosen Sendak to accompany him on this mission, for the Galra soldier was not only of high rank, but was one of the most promising young warriors he had seen in a generation. Zarkon could not say whether he would have a blood heir, but if not—Sendak was one of the young Galra who had the makings of a possible successor. Zarkon would have to give that matter much more thought, but for now, he could give Sendak this honor. Sendak was brimming with enthusiasm and pride, barely managing to suppress grin. Zarkon was reminded of the first time his mother had allowed him to accompany her on an imperial mission. The memory was a fond one.

The passage to Altea was quick and uneventful, made even more efficient by the blending of Galran and Altean technology. It had been so since the two planets had formed their alliance. Their joining had made both their peoples stronger, and Zarkon considered that relationship one of the greatest accomplishments of his reign thus far.

He was glad he had brought Sendak along, for the soldier's excitement and intense interest in everything made Zarkon look at Altea as if he had never seen it before. The cities' delicate, light architecture and the soft, green plantlife that grew in abundance were so unlike the buildings and flora of their native red planet of stone and fortresses. Sendak kept to Zarkon's side, as an imperial attendant should, but his gaze went everywhere, which Zarkon also thought was as it should be.

They met with the king in the audience room. Zarkon had himself announced before sweeping in formally with Sendak in tow, but Alfor ruined his protocol-approved entrance by rushing forward and pulling him into an embrace. Zarkon, used to this kind of behavior by now, endured it. Sendak stood stiffly at his side, confused, but also unwilling to break protocol.

"So good of you to pay us this visit," said Alfor. "I've missed just spending time with you. Ah, and this is—I remember. Sendak, was it? Look at you. What a fine soldier. I'm sure you do your emperor proud."

In the face of these overly familiar remarks, Sendak bowed out of desperation, his ears flattening. "Your Majesty."

"No, no need for that. We don't stand on formality here. Not Zarkon and I."

As Alfor turned, leading them further in, Zarkon gave Sendak an encouraging glance. He understood how trying the Alteans' flouting of procedure could be.

"My purpose in coming here is official," Zarkon reminded Alfor.

Alfor turned back. "Oh. Yes, that's technically true, but I didn't think—"

"It is," Zarkon insisted. "I am here to perform the necessary ritual."

"Now?" Alfor hesitated, then nodded. "Right. Pardon me. The Galra ritual. It is important, I know. Should we commence at once, then?"

"We should. Where is my daughter of honor?" There was no reason for delay. Beside him, Zarkon could sense Sendak relaxing now that the informalities had been dispensed with—though without abandoning his respectful posture.

"She is here. She has been waiting for you." Alfor raised his voice. "Allura."

To serve as someone's father of honor was a solemn duty. It was not a tradition among Alteans, but as Alfor was so close to him, Zarkon had taken it upon himself to fill the role, and Alfor had been pleased to accept. Zarkon would not have his friend's daughter go without. 

After a moment's delay, Allura emerged through a doorway from an adjoining chamber. She was dressed in the assembled armor that Zarkon had given her over the years: silver and red. It gleamed like armor that had never seen battle. It fit her well enough that she could wear it, although it was oversized, as she had not yet reached her full height. Zarkon was glad to see the suit assembled for her at last, fulfilling its purpose. It was unfortunate that Honerva had not been able to accompany him, but her work kept her busy much of the time, and she had not been able to leave in the midst of her current experiment. Zarkon would have to have to offer enough pride and joy for the both of them. Allura approached slowly. Her father would have instructed her in the steps of the ritual, as Zarkon had given him a lecture on it. "My father of honor she said," kneeling before the emperor.

"Attendant," said Zarkon, and Sendak tensed and straightened further at the sound of the word spoken by the emperor, as he always did. Serving as the emperor's attendant was one of the greatest honors a noble Galra warrior could receive, so his continued reaction was understandable. Sendak stepped forward. He held a long case of worked metal, upon which the imperial symbol was prominently displayed. 

Sendak opened the case and presented Allura with it, lowering his head as he did so. "Princess."

Within the case was a Galra blade, long and slightly curved, also marked with the symbol of the empire. This one was eminently suited for battle, and intended to be wielded by the child entering adulthood. Allura grasped the sword. Rising to her feet, she raised the sword. She knew how to hold a blade. She was her father's daughter. She was growing into a young woman. "Accept this final warrior's gift," said Zarkon, "and take your place among the warriors."

"It is my honor to receive it."

"Now, I will instruct you in the ways of battle. Attendant, draw your blade."

A servant came for the case Sendak had carried and smoothly took it from him, so Sendak was free to draw his own weapon. The audience chamber was not intended as a field of battle, but it was spacious, and large enough for this battle which was not truly a battle. Zarkon gave Allura the first lessons of Galra warfare, and she carried our his instructions, while Sendak dutifully played the role of opponent. The sound of their blades meeting was loud in the quiet room. Zarkon watched them. Sendak's movements were precise and controlled. He understood he was fighting with a young novice, and he was holding back appropriately. The sight was in line with Zarkon's hopes. As allies, the Galra and Alteans would learn and fight side by side.

Like many Galra rituals, this one was lengthy, but neither Allura nor Sendak flagged, and Alfor stood close by. His queen joined him, watching patiently and attentively. At last, the traditional lessons were given and received in their proper order. Although this session was no way intended to serve as a replacement for real training, it was a sign that the true Galra regimen had begun. Finally, Sendak lowered his weapon, but Allura did not do the same.

She was bearing up well under the armor, with her weapon in hand. Alteans were strong and resilient, but he could hear that her breath was quicker than before and just a little uneven. That was to be expected, but the ritual had not yet ended. Zarkon drew his own blade. "Now, we face each other."

He swung his sword at Allura. It was nothing close to a real blow, but it was not weak, and the ringing sound that came from their clashing blades must have echoed throughout this wing of the palace. Allura blocked his strikes and withstood his attack. They circled each other. This was a test, of sorts. He went through the lessons, one by one, seeing how well she had already learned the preliminary steps. She had learned well. He expected no less of her. When the final steps had been taken, with a quick strike Zarkon knocked the blade from her hand. This too, was tradition, a reminder that the novice still had much to learn from the more experienced fighter.

Sendak, who had been waiting for this moment—he had gone through this ritual himself and knew it well—slid forward to retrieve the fallen weapon for Zarkon, so the emperor would not have to bend to pick it up. Sheathing his own blade, Zarkon presented Allura with her gift a second time, handing it to her himself, hilt-first. Allura solemnly accepted the sword again, now that she had earned it. Alfor and Queen Melenor applauded, which wasn't precisely traditional, but it was acceptable. Zarkon did not object. 

Not until Sendak took Allura's blade back for safekeeping did the princess pull off her helmet, her pale hair spilling out. There was a look of stubborn determination on her face, mixed with pride, as she stood facing him.

"You have proven yourself as a warrior," said Zarkon.

Then, in a very Altean and Alfor-like fashion, Allura stepped across the space separating them and put her arms around his waist in a strong embrace. "Thank you, Uncle Zarkon." 

"That was beautiful." Alfor, who had admirably managed to remain quiet for the duration of the ritual, spoke up now. "Do you think _I_ could go through the process to be accepted as a warrior?"

"No," said Zarkon.

Alfor pursed his lips. "Zarkon."

"It's too late for you," said Zarkon, intending no offense.

Alfor must not have taken offense, because he laughed. 

Zarkon did not laugh. "Your daughter has more promise."

"Yes, Father, listen to Uncle Zarkon." There was the Altean lightness in Allura's voice, indicating she wasn't being entirely serious, but Zarkon appreciated the sentiment, nodding as Allura tilted back her head to look up at him. "Will you train me some more while you're here?"

"Of course. As your father of honor, I am at your disposal." His visit would not be a long one, but Zarkon was always ready to devote himself to training. "And you can spar with Sendak."

He did not speak, because that would not have been proper, but Sendak looked very pleased to have been included in the conversation, his eyes brightening.

"Good. Because I want to learn to fight like you."

Zarkon didn't doubt that she would excel. She had a good stance and quick reflexes. She took instruction well, but also showed a fierce spirit that could not be taught, a spirit that even a Galra would be proud of. "One day, you will make a formidable warrior," said Zarkon. "I hope I will see that day."


End file.
